Quirks
by Redrum
Summary: ONESHOT: Severus must learn to accept the good with the bad in his and Harry's relationship. Along with the peculiar...


Since Abby sent me an early present, I thought I'd return the favor with a story I'd planned to give her on her birthday (coincedently, the day after mine). Happy (early) birthday, Abby

QUIRKS

He looked ridiculous. And sexy. Ridiculous, but sexy.

The charcoal sweater (which he knew to be as soft as a chick's downy feathers) drooped off the boy's thin shoulders. The cuffs hung well past the small hands, obscuring them. The length of the shirt billowed around the boy's taut thighs. His bare thighs.

Severus sincerely hoped that the boy was not naked underneath his favourite sweater. He did not want them soiled with the boy's precome and other bodily fluids.

He slipped out of his outer robe, putting it on the old fashioned, iron coat hanger.

Harry seated himself on a - Severus' favourite - large armchair. He looked like he would disappear into the cushions over twice his size. Severus kept his comments lodged in his throat as he poured himself a small glass of rose tequila. He took a seat in the loveseat, its camel brown suede matching that of the armchair. He toed off his socks, picked them up and folded them neatly and rested the thin material on the armrest.

He sipped his drink slowly, savoring the strawberry flavour. The end of his after-class routine left him feeling calm and tolerant. A state he knew he had to be in before he could face another one of Harry's idiotic antics.

Wiggling his naked toes in the lush, black, fur area rug, Severus met Harry's gaze. Or rather, attempted to. The boy was looking toward the fire in the stone fireplace. The amber light danced off the boy's flesh, making it glow and seem ethereal. Mentally shaking his head, Severus spoke.

"Why are you wearing my sweater?"

A long silence.

"I was cold and my sweaters no longer fit me."

"You could have made the fire burn hotter." Severus waved a hand toward the flames, magically making them give off more heat.

"I was tired and didn't have the energy to."

Severus frowned. "One of our throws would have sufficed, I'm sure." He leaned back, resting against one such throw.

Harry only shrugged, still not meeting Severus' eyes.

With a great sigh, he pushed himself off the couch, resting his empty glass on the dark coffee table. "Come."

The boy looked up, eyes wide. He stood uncertainly. Severus produced his wand from his forearm sheath and spelled pants on the boy.

Severus went to the fireplace, reached into a ceramic pot and pulled out the custom made Floo powder. Throwing it into the flames, he pulled Harry to his side and stepped into the fire. "Diagon Alley," Severus pronounced, pressing Harry tight against his side as they whirled through the Floo connection.

Two weeks later, Severus came home to a familiar scenario.

"Why are you wearing my bath robe?"

Harry shrugged a black clothed shoulder, causing the ridiculously large robe to slip off and reveal said - naked - shoulder. "I don't have any."

"Don't be foolish. I bought you one just last week for our anniversary."

The boy's green eyes looked away. "I lost it."

Severus gritted his teeth, ordered the boy to change, and once again made a trip to Diagon Alley.

A month passed before Severus happened to arrive back home earlier than he'd intended to after supervising a detention that he'd cut short because the brats were getting on his already frayed nerves.

He stood silently in the doorway, watching his young lover. The boy was once again wearing Severus' favourite sweater, the one he had taken to wearing often as the snow blanketed Hogwarts and made the dungeons all the more cold.

Harry was sitting on their wide bed, his legs curled underneath the duvet. He was doing the most peculiar thing. His hands were buried in the bottom of the sweater and he was holding it up to his nose - smelling it.

"What in the blazes are you doing?" Severus snapped, crossing the room. He tossed his dress shirt in the hamper and started unbuttoning his pants, his eyes remained on Harry, who had started at the unexpected voice.

Looking especially guilty, Harry let go of the sweater's band and rested his hands on the duvet.

Placing his trousers and socks in the hamper, Severus went to his side of the bed and slipped in beneath the covers. He kept his eyes on the fidgety boy.

"Nothing," Harry muttered, looking away.

Severus sighed and rested his weight on his elbow, facing Harry. "What is it?"

Harry returned his sigh with a tiny shrug, finally pulling the sweater off and gently placing it on the nightstand, next to his glasses. "I just..." a faint blush marred his cheeks. "I just like the smell," he finally muttered, so quiet that Severus could barely distinguish the words.

"Of me?" he asked, feeling quite confused.

"Yeah." Harry shifted around until he was facing Severus, curled up on his side.

"What ever for?"

"I don't know!" Harry snapped, sounding quite exasperated. And embarrassed. Severus wondered if this was a normal thing between lovers, or if Harry was just strange that way.

"I see... You're telling me I bought you the new sweaters and bathrobe for nothing?"

"I wear them," Harry said, blush increasing. "I just like to smell your clothes occasionally and cuddle up in them. I usually do it when you're not around."

"Indeed. I don't believe it's something to be embarrassed about," Severus admitted grudgingly, even though he thought it was rather peculiar. Then again, Harry always had been sentimental. Sentimental and peculiar.

"In the future, please ask me when you're wanting a whiff of my seemingly attractive body odor and I will provide you with your much needed 'cuddles.'"

Harry snorted, lips upturned in an amused smile. "Thanks, Severus. I'm still going to borrow your clothes sometimes."

Severus' lip curled as he pulled Harry closer to him. "We all have our quirks. That aside, you really do look quite fetching in my shirts."

He could feel Harry's broad smile against his chest and the muffled laughter ghosting over his bare flesh and making the boy's body convulse slightly. Severus thought that maybe the boy's odd behaviour with sniffing his dirty laundry wasn't quite that unusual. After all, he himself enjoyed the occasional indulgence in one of his own quirks. Besides, Harry had always paid particular (quite lavishingly, really) attention to Severus' feet once he had finished his pedicure and painted his toenails with a clear protective coating.

- The End -


End file.
